The New Horizon ~ A Maze Runner Story

- 47 -

May was right; the onset of protesters littered the street in front of the towering wall that sheltered AFA. It took Thomas twenty minutes to catch a taxi--all of them had been backed up, escorting people either towards the protests or anyway from them. Crowds in the City shouted, asking for AFA to find a solution--anything at all--to let the non-Immunes be cured, asking for AFA to hold up their promise. All the while Thomas ached inside. Confusion engulfed him, and when he finally got through to the now heavily guarded lobby of AFA, he went directly for Doctor Owens' office. And when she was not in there, he strode around the lobby. But it was too chaotic to make anyone out in that space.

People were everywhere, and more than just the usual amount. The press had squeezed their way in, gawking and snapping photos, and aggravating the doctors that scrambled to compose themselves. The giant mounted televisions inside the lobby showing the news that Thomas had watched just minutes ago with May. Receptionists dashed from one side of the desk to the next, picking up phones that blared with a constant ring. The sound of scientists' coats flapping around as they ran about the place, high heels and loafers slammed into the ground, echoing. And somehow, Thomas stood still. Until he finally had enough. He pushed himself past the chaos and stepped outside, the guards only opening the door wide enough for him to squeeze through.

He sucked in deep breaths, thankful for the freshness that refilled his lungs, but at the same time, horrified that the outside of AFA was just as corrupt as the inside. Booms resonated from the other side of the walls that encircled AFA's border. People--Cranks--were on the other end, banging on the iron wall with such ferocity that he could hear the walls quake. Uprisings arose, shouts and screams and bellows of insanity. The human sounds were far from human--they were animalistic and full of wrath. Thomas was just relieved he couldn't see their ragged faces and wild eyes. Sudden movement caught Thomas's eyes--it was blonde hair and a white pantsuit.
"Doctor Owens," Thomas said, relief crashing onto him. "What's going on?"

"I assume you have seen the news." Owens replied, somberly. She looked defeated, devoid of hope. He'd never seen her like that. He didn't think he would have to see her like that.
"I have. I just wanted to--"
"Talk, I know. The whole world's been wanting to talk to me. Interview after interview. It's ridiculous."
"Well," Thomas sighed, as frustrated as she was, "how did they run out so soon? I mean, we were just talking about the RBI numbers yesterday. Everything was fine."
Owens shook her head, frustration growing. "Miscommunication. Miscalculation. Not on our part--we were awaiting a large shipment last night. When it never came, we called the manufacturers, and they said that they'd simply run out of parts. For good."

Thomas stood still, his thoughts disrupted by the blood-curdling screams of anguish on the other side of the wall. Tears welled inside Owens' eyes. "Our manufacturers fooled us. Even if they didn't do it purposefully, they should have told us they had run out of RBI's. . . All they could offer was that their connection was faulty and the phone lines had been down. I don't believe it. AFA is finished."
"What? It's not finished--we have the vaccine."
Owens shrugged and it pained Thomas to see her so downcast. "Not for months. At least until the trails are done. The government won't let us release the vaccine without proper testing."
Thomas closed his eyes shut, willed himself not to lose his temper. The world was dying, growing more irreversible by the second, and the government was postponing the only hope left in the world. It was mind-boggling. "Can we give them out anyway?"

The doctor shrugged again, completely uncertain. "We could be sued."
"They can't sue the only corporation that's given this world hope. They can't. Those government officials want the vaccine, too."
"Possibly, they're just too thick-headed."
"Of course they want it. All their family members and friends, suffering from the disease--they want them cured," Thomas said, suddenly feeling heat rise inside his chest, "all they're concerned about is saving their own reputation, not the world's--"
An explosion erupted, shaking the earth. Thomas trembled, clasping hands over his ears, though it was no use; they still rang, numbed by the ear-splitting explosion. Debris shattered high into the sky, dust clouding the air around him. Doctor Owens grabbed his arm, full of panic.

She began shouting into an intercom device, asking for extra backup. Immediately, guards flooded out of the building behind them, charging the madness beyond. Thomas still couldn't make out what was unfolding in the distance from the giant billowing clouds of debris and smoke. Another series of bombs went off, knocking Thomas down on the grass, vibrating the earth underneath him. The press piled out of the lobby, filming and recording the massive unrest before them. Orange light stretched out on the ground, growing with body. Fire. Those rattling bombs had broken through the wall. Impossibly. Thomas had no idea how, but the smoke only grew taller, grappling with his lungs, choking him. Gunshots rang out, loud and clear. More terrifying shrieks. This time, they were not obstructed by a wall.

Thomas finally pushed himself off the ground, straining his eyes to see beyond him, but all he could make out were dark beings poking through the smoking clouds. The guards, Thomas knew. They were piled up, shooting at the Cranks that had impossibly made their way through the wall. Doctor Owens was gone. More guards yelled orders as they sprinted past Thomas, like warriors on the battlefield. Nowhere was safe anymore. Nothing would be.
Just as Thomas turned to get back inside the building, a pair of strong hands clutched onto his shoulders, yanking him backwards. The smoke had cleared just enough for Thomas to see it was a man. A Crank, with a crazed face and lunatic eyes.

"Gotcha," the man said, straddling Thomas the moment he fell onto his back. The crazed man had jumped on him so fast Thomas couldn't have even gotten himself up. The Crank's superhuman strength was menacing. He focused on Thomas, licking his lips. Blood ran down both sides of his face, dripping onto Thomas's neck as he pinned him down. Somehow, the Crank man was physically fit; he almost looked like a guard. Thomas was stunned; if the man had escaped the guards, he was way too good, way too stealthy to be a full on Crank. He'd probably just become infected. "You ain't goin' anywhere."

Thomas squirmed and thrashed with all his strength, knocking the man off for just a second, but he was back on, crushing Thomas even more this time. Thomas screamed for help, his voice was drowned out in the chaos.
"I stole this from the guards," the crazed man said, holding up a pistol, tantalizing Thomas with it, "and I intend to kill every last one of you who support AFA."